Heretical Fishing

Book 3: Chapter 47: First Contact

When Rocky awoke in what must be the afterlife, he let out a content sigh. Though he was now in a different realm to his beloved mistress and the rest of Tropica, his body had a weightlessness he hadn’t experienced since being a regular crab.

Gone was the influence of the parasitic man, his poisonous guidance nowhere to be seen.

Rocky’s awareness was clear, leaving only his thoughts in his consciousness. He sent his attention down toward his core, wanting to see what it felt like now that he was in the afterlife. When he entered it and tasted his chi, Rocky’s mouth dropped open. His entire nexus was filled to bursting with explosive essence.

Rocky moved his mouth, then froze, confusion washing through him. He still had a physical body. It was surrounded by what felt like the comfiest blanket imaginable, hugging him tight from every direction. He sent his senses outward, and when he discovered the chi there, his thoughts died in their tracks. It wasn’t possible... was it?

He unfurled his limbs, no longer needing to protect himself against the molten rock that had been trying to destroy him. His body felt… different. As he made to move his rear flippers and ascend skyward, his core reached out, and Rocky instinctively knew of a brand new capability. He sent tendrils of chi out that melded with the explosive essence surrounding him. The next moment, Rocky was ascending through the column of magma, not needing to move a muscle.

When he breached the surface, he opened his eyes.

The sun above was blinding, and he lifted a claw to shield against its light. When he caught sight of his mighty pincer, astonishment shot through him, brighter even than the celestial body above. It was massive, and size wasn’t where the changes ended. Most of the shell he could see had turned black, interlaced with magma-colored lines. As he watched, the lines grew brighter and duller, shifting as if it was lava exposed to air. With a single burst of chi, he shot over the top of the wall.

Before, it was hundreds of meters down to the magma. Now, lava poured over the side, the volcano actively erupting. As he sailed high above, Rocky got a wonderful view. The small island had become much larger. Where lava had met the ocean, it cooled and hardened into something solid. As more and more lava poured out, the mass expanded. Rocky landed atop the ridge, his chi-covered body standing on the shifting lava even as it flowed out.

Beneath the midday sun, he finally got a good look at himself. The rest of Rocky’s carapace was the same as his claw, mostly black and interlaced with small lines of red. It gave him a deadly appearance, and he wondered what his beloved mistress would think of it. As Sergeant Snips flashed through his mind, butterflies took flight in his stomach. The poison that had taken hold in his cultivation had affected no one so much as her, and though he was now free of it, that didn’t make up for all the harm he’d done.

Rocky had lived.

It mattered not how long it took. Rocky would make it up to her. Before that, though, he had to get home. He was still so far away, but perhaps that was for the best; he would have time to learn who he truly was without the parasitic human influencing his every thought. The prospect made happiness well up within him, the emotion so foreign that it felt uncomfortable. He’d felt joy before, but it was usually at the expense of someone else, or tinged with an underlying hatred that dulled the edges.

There were so many things he would experience for the first time now that he had earned a second life, the first of which he intended to discover immediately.

With anticipatory bubbles coming from his mouth, he spun, extending his claws to the east.

He gathered power there, his core filling his pincers with chi faster than ever before. A split moment later he leaped high above the volcano, and with nothing but air beneath him, his claws slammed shut. The dual explosions that resulted were so large that their boundaries blurred, becoming a single blast that was larger than the lava-spewing opening. It left behind a cloud just as black as his body, its plumes lit from within by orange and red light.

Rocky could only see these details with his enhanced vision, because the moment his explosions rang out, he flew. Only superseded by Fischer’s throw from Tropica, he soared higher than his mistress had ever flung him, an overjoyed smile never leaving his face.

Wait for me, mistress…

***

Beneath the midmorning sun, a man lounged. Despite laying on packed ground, he couldn’t have gotten comfier if he tried. All around him, battle took place, the exchanges violent enough to reverberate within his core. This would have shattered the calm of the average relaxer, making adrenaline course through their veins.

But Deklan was no average relaxer.

“How do you do that?” his brother, Dom, asked.

Deklan cracked an eye and raised his head from where it rested atop his hands. “Do what?”

“Just lay there while those two are sparring. Every time they clash, my core screams that I’m about to be cut in half or burned alive. Sometimes both.”

Deklan got up on one elbow, shielding his eyes from the sun with his other hand. In the center of the clearing, Roger and the prince met again. A solid gout of fire launched from Trent’s whirling fist, so strong that a wave of heat washed over Deklan. If such a blast had flown for either him or his brother, it would likely be the end of them.

Roger, the man who had apparently been a regular farmer mere months ago, grinned at the approaching inferno. With a flick of his wrist, his own chi sprang into being. Rather than burn away, his essence sought to cut. It tore the prince’s attack into ribbons that dissipated into nothing.

Deklan’s core recoiled as it felt the reverberations, just as his brother had said. But that was where his body’s innate reactions ended. There was no spike of panic, no wide-eyed stare, and no prickling skin.

It was a different story for Dom. He gave a full-body shudder that started in his abdomen, slowly shaking its way out. “Gods above. I’m glad we’re on their side.”

“Rather impressive, aren’t they?”

“That’s an understatement...”

Trent had backed off, circling to his left. In the blink of an eye, he rocketed forward again with flames jetting from his legs. Deklan raised an eyebrow; he hadn’t seen that move before, and he wondered if it was new.

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The prince confirmed it a moment later when he darted too far left and lost his footing, having to plant his arms so he didn’t faceplant into the packed earth. He immediately sprang back up, his face contorted in rage.

He whirled in a full circle, and when his fists lashed out, Deklan sensed the power swelling there. It was stronger than anything he’d felt from the prince, and he bolted upright, his instincts screaming that Roger needed to be helped against the impending flames.

He took a half-step forward, reaching a hand forward, but there was no need. Trent pulled back, returning some of the chi to his core. Unlike Deklan, Roger hadn’t responded to the threat at all. When the column of fire came barrelling forward, Roger flicked his wrist again. The flame died on the wind, just as the last had.

“That’s enough for now,” Roger said. “You need to be more in control of your emotions.”

Trent clenched his jaw and gave a sharp nod.

“But,” Roger continued, “you did well to pull back that strike. It’s not easy to recall the chi after letting it out, especially when you’re upset.” He turned to leave, then called over his shoulder, “And for what it’s worth, I would have been fine if you released all of it. You’re strong, Trent. Very strong. But you’re still no match for me.”

Roger strode away, heading for a group of cultivators that were taking notes. Deklan noticed Anna among them, and he gave her a small wave that she swiftly returned before Roger got there.

“I wish I had that strength,” Dom said, staring after Trent’s departing form.

“I don’t know...” Deklan also watched him go. “It seems like it came at a cost.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Deklan replied, getting to his feet.

“Where are you going?”

“Just for a little chat. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Trent had reached his cousin, Keith. The two were thick as thieves, and Deklan didn’t miss the slight loss of tension in Trent’s shoulders as they began speaking. As they were cultivators, the two former nobles immediately noticed his approach. Their footsteps halting, they spun and waited for him to close the distance.

“What can we do for you, Deklan?” Keith asked. “If you want to spar, we’re unfortunately occupied for the—”

“Nah,” Deklan interrupted, shaking his head. “Not that. I just wanted to say g’day.”

“Oh.” Keith smiled, some of his hesitation disappearing. “Well, hello. I really do have to get going, though. I’m working with the smiths today to—”

“No worries!” Deklan interrupted again, grinning. “I was actually hoping to speak to Trent.”

Trent’s body language shifted, a hint of hostility joining his impassive facade. “Anything you need to say in front of me, you can say in front of my cousin. We don’t keep secrets.”

Deklan gave a half shrug. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s no secret. But if Keith needs to get going, you can catch up to him, yeah?”

The two cousins studied Deklan a little longer.

“If I leave now,” Trent said. “You’ll come find me later?”

Deklan’s grin grew wider. “I imagine I will.”

The prince sighed. “Okay, then. I’ll come find you soon, Keith.”

His cousin nodded, then turned on Deklan. Keith’s eyes bore into him. “Before I go, I want to know what it’s about.”

Trent opened his mouth to reply, but before he could voice his concern, Deklan spoke.

“Well, here’s the thing. I only ever see you two hanging out together, and I wanted to talk to you about being friends. Or mates, to borrow Fischer’s terminology and completely ignore the other connotations that phrase has.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, but Trent barked a laugh. “I thought no one else found his use of ‘mate’ weird. It’s fine, Keith. I’ll come find you soon.”

Assuaged, Keith gave his cousin a nod, Deklan one last glance, and departed.

“So,” Deklan said, not waiting for Keith to leave earshot. “I’ll cut right to the chase. I reckon you and your cousin and my brother and I would get along well.”

“And what makes you say that?” Trent asked, his face impassive as they started strolling.

“First of all, you and I have a little bit of shared history with your dad.” Seeing Trent’s nostrils flare and mouth form a line, Deklan held up both hands. “That’s not to say that we were equally impacted. I don’t know the history, but I do know whatever he did was enough to make you spontaneously combust. I feel like that automatically trumps the bullshit he put my family through. I’m not going to diminish your experience, but you can’t deny that there’s a slight similarity between us, right?”

Trent stopped walking, spinning to raise an eyebrow at Deklan. “You don’t mince your words, do you?”

“Not even a little.”

“And you’re telling me that my father, despite that, called you a friend?”

“Do you find that hard to believe?”

“Hard to believe?” Trent repeated, a small smile playing on his lips. “I’d find it impossible to believe if a former auditor didn’t confirm your story.”

Deklan shrugged. “It was a hard time for him.”

“Good,” Trent said as his legs started moving once more. “A little turmoil is the least he deserves.”

“For what it’s worth, I’d call it more than a little turmoil.I’m slightly ashamed at how much joy I get from looking back on his overreactions when reading names from the relics’ screens.”

Trent snorted. “I wish I had seen it.”

Deklan made a dramatic groan and clutched his chest as he fell to his knees. “An... an entire clock of birds!” He fell to his back, splaying his legs out wide. “The gods vex me!”

The laugh that came from Trent’s throat was like music to Deklan’s ears. He stood up, feigned looking down at a screen, and froze. “The Beetle Boys...? Fat Rat Pack...?” As he fell to his knees again, he let out an exaggerated cry, like you’d hear from a noble lady in a play. “Lizard Wizard has gone on the attack!” He fell to his back again, pretending to faint.

“Stop!” Trent wheezed, wiping away tears as he descended further into what was, in Deklan’s opinion, a much-needed giggle. “I can’t take any more.”

Deklan brushed dirt off his clothing as he got back to his feet. “If you ever need a good laugh, come find me. There are plenty more where that came from.”

“Okay, maybe I can see why he liked you so much. Even if he is a self-important prick.” Trent’s gaze went distant, and when his shoulders went tense, Deklan suspected that he was once more lost in the past.

“Can I be blunt with you, Trent?”

“Please do,” he replied, still staring forward. “I’ve had enough political games and lies for a lifetime.”

“Good. I think you should rely more on the church—on the people of New Tropica.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” His jaw firmed. “You haven’t experienced what I have.”

“I know. And like I said before, I’m not trying to diminish that. But you’re surrounded by some pretty good people. If you ever need to get what happened off your chest, I’ll always have a free ear. Or if you want a fishing partner, hit me up any time of day.” He shrugged. “Or night, I suppose. I don’t need as much sleep as I used to.”

“Still getting used to that myself.” Trent smiled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Swift as a summer storm, his uncaring mask had slipped back into place. “Thanks for letting me know, Deklan. I appreciate it.”

“Sure. No worries, as Fischer would say.”

Trent looked at him for a moment longer, and just when Deklan thought he’d say something, the prince turned and left.

Exhaling a silent breath, Deklan returned to his brother.

Dom raised an eyebrow at him when he got there. “Did it go according to plan?”

“You’re not going to ask what I was doing?”

“Nah. I picked up at least that much from what I overheard.” Dom ran a hand through his hair as he closed his eyes and smiled, letting the sun hit his face. “So how did it go?”

“Pretty well.” In one smooth motion, Deklan returned to his earlier spot on the cleared ground. Within the blink of an eye, he was lounging once more, also luxuriating in the sun’s rays. “Much better than I expected.”

“A good first contact, huh?”

Deklan shot a glance his brother’s way, and they shared a grin. “Agreed,” he said. “A good first contact.”